1941 Packard 160 Deluxe –
Jack and Judy Cornely, of St. Petersburg, Fla., are the lucky owners of this gorgeous Packard droptop. Packard styling was all new for 1941, and this lovely convertible coupe was one of the most stunning cars of its day.

1930 Ford Model A Fordor –
This 1930 Ford Model A Town Sedan was Phil Carlson’s first car and he still owns it 65 years later! He shared this photo of the car “getting ready for the Christmas Eve cookie delivery, a tradition dating back more than 30 years.”

1932 Studebaker Dictator sedan –
Reader Tom Cashion shares this very cool photo of his rare 1932 Studabaker. The car is unrestored and still carries its original inline eight-cylinder engine and three-speed manual transmission.

1956 Pontiac 860 station wagon –
“I have owned this wagon for seven years and love the fact that you do not see many of this model,” reports Michael Wooding, the owner of this cool resto-mod. “This has a LS-1 with a 700R4 and a Ford 9-inch rear end.”

1952 Henry J Corsair –
“This is a later-series Henry J with a 161-cid inline engine with 7.0:1 compression ratio and developing 80 bhp on the test stand,” says owner Jack Mueller. “The car represents a fairly well-loaded example of the top-line Henry J, and the later 1952 version shows off the only significant body change (new cowl, relocating the tail lights to the crowns of the rear fenders and addition of glove box) that the make got during its 1951-’54 model-year production run. The car has less than 48,000 miles on the clock and the mileage is believed to be original.”

1971 Boss Bug dune buggy – “I found this car, sitting in a garage
for 35 years,” says Greg Vance. “Completely rebuilt everything… [The] red metalflake body was in perfect condition. It has a VW 1600 dual-port, four-cylinder engine, runs and drives great, fun cruising the lake Michigan shoreline.”

1957  Cadillac Coupe deVille –
Annie Koehler’s son, Jamie Hutchins, salvaged this classic and restored it as a gift to her. “The interior is original, the engine is a big-block Chevy 496,” she says. “Jamie builds racing engines at his shop, Dyno Tech Racing Engines, in Bethalto, Ill.”

1958 Edsel Corsair –
“It’s an honor to be the current curator,” says David Kirke. “Wish the car could talk. Born at the Mercury plant in New Jersey in 1958. Spent her first 10 years in Minnesota before moving to Arizona and now residing in Illinois where she has brother and sister Edsels to keep her company. Plays well with Buicks, Oldsmobiles, Pontiacs and Chryslers.”

1965 Ford Mustang – “I was 15 years old when my mother purchased this Mustang in June 1965 from Heiser Ford in Milwaukee,” says David Scott. “She traded in a 1957 Dodge station wagon… The car still has [its] original interior, engine, transmission and sheet metal. Maintenance and repairs have been ongoing. It received a cosmetic refurbishing in 1983 with transmission and engine being rebuilt more recently. [It’s] equipped with a 289 V-8, automatic transmission, power steering and brakes and radio. The car has been driven approximately 62,000 miles in 60 years and has not been wet in more than 30 years.”

1967 Jaguar 420 – “I’m the second owner of this ’67 Jaguar 420,” says Richard Ackroyd. “It’s one of very few with a four-speed and overdrive. It may be one of the finest. Zero rust and a bare metal respray in 2014. I bought it from the original owner in 1993 with 38,000 miles on it. It now has 48,000.”

1966 Ford Galaxie 500 – Dan Rawson’s unrestored survivor has only 21,000 miles. “It runs and drives like it looks,” he says. “I’m the third owner and have the car’s history. [It’s been] garaged all its life.”

1959 Plymouth Sport Fury convertible –
Phyllis Watts received this awesome car brand new as a high school graduation gift, and she and her husband Bob still own it! “The car had a frame-off restoration 10 years ago after sitting in storage for many years,” Bob says. “It’s a 318 two- barrel. The interior has the roll-out seats on both sides.”

We would love to see and hear about your ride! CLICK HERE TO SHOW US YOUR RIDE

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The post Reader Rides Rule! appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

Bill Durica of Bay Village, Ohio, recently sent Old Cars Weekly an interesting note. Durica said that the publication had provided him with a wealth of useful information and great automotive history, but he still had a question.

“I’ve been enjoying Old Cars Weekly for several years now,” he noted. “I don’t remember seeing information on tracing the ownership history of a vehicle.”

Bill’s Porsche might seem like an easy one to get a previous-owner history on, because of five reasons: it’s a rare car; he is the car’s second owner; he has owned it for 45 years; and he already knows quite a bit about it.

Durica’s car is a 1955 Porsche Speedster that was delivered to Hoffman Motors Corp. in New York on Nov. 21, 1955. He learned this information when he wrote to Porsche Cars of North America for a Certificate of Authenticity. He purchased the car in January 1963, so he has the name of the immediate previous owner.

Durica knows that Max Hoffman was a major importer of Jaguars, Mercedes, Porsches and BMWs in the ’50s, but he apparently sold his businesses in the ’60s.

Others who aren’t as lucky to have a resource such as Porsche Cars of North America, or whose cars have had more than one previous owner, might not know who the other people were who owned their car or how to track them down. If Durica is having a hard time with his Porsche’s history, imagine how difficult it is to trace the ownership history of a car that’s older than his, or one that’s traded hands many more times.

There are many reasons that car collectors seek previous-owner information. First, it is simply fun to know the ownership history of a vehicle. Second, a previous owner might be able to tell you more about your car and verify that it still has the same standard and optional equipment it left the dealership with. You may also learn if the car has been in an accident or had major repairs. Furthermore the previous owner may still have literature, parts or documentation on a car, including photographs. In some car clubs, documentation from the car’s previous owner may also be required to maintain your car’s unique registry number. For some fortunate car owners, their car may have been owned by a famous person, which might increase its value. With so many people claiming a famous owner in their car’s history, documentation is a necessity for the value to be positively affected.

As Durica learned, tracing car ownership is possible, but not easy to do. This is not only because of the passage of time, but also because of a federal law that went into effect in September 1997. The Driver’s Privacy Protection Act, which passed Congress in 1994 and took affect three years later, prohibited state motor vehicle departments from giving records to individuals. The law was drafted because stalkers had used DMV records to obtain people’s addresses. Several states raised states’ rights objections, but the law is still on the books.

If you think you can talk a DMV clerk into bending the law for a car collector, you should visit the British Car Forum’s car history news group at www.britishcarforum.com. It includes a discussion about an Austin-Healey BN6 owner trying to trace registration information on his car. Another British car owner replied that he had asked his Congressman to track down similar information. The Congressman told him, “California is not very friendly to old cars; they want them off the streets.” The privacy law is taken seriously in that state.

Due to the privacy legislation, any hobbyist wishing to trace the history of a car today has a lot of legwork to do, but it is possible to get certain types of information, if you’re a good detective. I have been able to find the previous owners of eight of my 11 cars without help from the DMV.

In 1991, Barbara Spears and Mike Brezden published the book “How to Find Cars & Owners.” It was revised and reprinted in 1992, but the book is out of print today. However, you may be able to find a used copy. Both editions came out before the Driver’s Privacy Protection Act took effect in September 1997. However, the book covers many other aspects of tracing ownership history — not just title searches through state motor vehicle agencies.

The authors start out telling people the reason they should care about past owners. They talk about things to consider — such as the car’s age — and having realistic expectations. “There is no magic computer with an all-encompassing database of past owners,” says Barbara Spears. There are basic instructions, from how to set up a three-ring binder to make a “case file” to how to make phone calls and write letters get positive responses from past owners.

Barbara and Mike covered the investigative techniques involved in searching through a car and looking for clues to past ownership. Are there old registration papers in the glove box? How about an ice scraper with the original dealer’s name? Better yet, an owner’s manual with the GM Protect-O-Plate or Ford Warranty Information Card glued in it? Look under the seats for old pay stubs or bank deposit slips. If you’re lucky, you might find a factory broadcast sheet with all the car’s options listed on it stuck behind the instrument panel or rear seat.

The book tells you what to ask for if you do locate one of the car’s previous owners. This may sound like overkill, but in most cases, the car owner won’t want a pen pal, so it’s important to find out everything possible while you have the opportunity. The book also suggests different questions to ask a car dealer or auction house that might have handled a sale of the vehicle.

If you own a British Car, there is an organization called the British Motor Heritage Industry Trust that can trace production records of a vehicle to tell you when it was built and when and where it came to the United States. It will also document chassis and engine numbers and may help determine if they properly match. There is a set fee for this service, and a certificate is provided. The address is: British Motor Industry Heritage Trust, Archive Department, Heritage Motor Center, Banbury Road, Gaydon, Warwick CV35 OBJ, England.

Below is a list of sources known to the Old Cars Weekly staff that offer some authentication services. Many, if not all, of these sources charge for this service. If the manufacturer of your car is not listed, contact a club that focuses on your car’s manufacturer (a list of car clubs is available at www.oldcarsweekly.com), or contact the manufacturer.

— Angelo Van Bogart

Porsche Certificates of Authenticity
800-PORSCHE (option 5)

Mopars, built from 1962-1980
Galen’s Tag Service, LLC.
Galen V. Govier
PO Box 516
Prairie du Chien, WI 53821-0516
608-326-8061 FAX

Pontiac Historical Service
P.O. Box 884
Sterling Heights, MI 48311-0884
www.phs-online.com

Cadillac and LaSalle
GM Heritage Center
Attn: Cadillac Archives
6400 Center Drive
Sterling Heights, MI 48312-2609

CLICK HERE FOR MORE RESTORATION ARTICLES

The post Tracing Your Car’s Ownership History appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

By Bill McCleery

The 1956 Oldsmobile 88 Holiday sedan proudly driven to car shows and parades by Norris and Phyllis Teague is the same car they drove during their honeymoon in the summer of 1963.

“This car holds a lot of memories,” said Phyllis Teague, 73. “I remember it from the time it was new.”

It was her father, Everett Spry, who first purchased the four-door hardtop on April 3, 1956, for $3,629.30, from the Rhodes-Hartzeld dealership in Muncie, Ind. That’s the same city in which Norris and Phyllis Teague, and the car, still reside.

Borrowing the bride’s father’s car, the Teagues took their honeymoon trip to Holiday World, a resort community in Santa Claus, Ind. They chose that destination over more exotic options, the couple recalls, because of financial considerations. Ultimately, they were quite satisfied with their choice, they said, and 49 years of wedded bliss have proved they have learned the ingredients of a successful marriage, as well.

If the honeymoon is a highlight of the car’s history, Phyllis Teague also recalls a low light.

She was 17 and a senior in high school, driving a friend home from a school event. The night was dark, and she missed seeing a stop sign. The miscue resulted in a fender-bender with another vehicle. Phyllis felt terrible, but when she told her father the news, he took it in stride.

Phyllis Teague’s first car once she graduated from high school was another 1956 Oldsmobile, a turquoise-and-white two-door hardtop. She is unsure what became of that car.

After Everett Spry died in 1966 at age 65, his widow, Nola Spry, kept the four-door Olds. She passed away in 1990, at which time the car went to Phyllis.

The Olds was in solid shape but well-weathered and needed some work when the Teagues took possession. Norris Teague replaced a fender, got the car repainted in 1993 and had the engine rebuilt in 2002. He added power steering and some optional interior lamps from another 1956 Oldsmobile donor car he purchased. Some of the car’s chrome trim is original, he said, and some has been re-chromed.

“This car was a ‘Sunday car,’ driven to church on Sundays and was garaged Monday through Saturday during the week,” Norris Teague said, adding that Everett Spry had the use of a company car for weekday commuting. “It presently has 97,800 miles on the odometer.”

The Teagues drove the car to Lansing, Mich., in 1997 for a celebration of the 100th birthday of Oldsmobile. There were 2,400 specimens of Oldmobiles at the event, Norris Teague recalls, but only 12 from the 1956 model year.

The car and its 324-cubic-inch Rocket V-8 continue to bring pleasure to the Teagues, he said, adding that the automatic transmission still functions perfectly despite never having been rebuilt.

“We enjoy driving in many parades in Ohio and Indiana,” he said. “This car is in excellent driving condition.”

—————————————

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The post Honeymoon continues for 1956 Olds 88 appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

By Gary Buehler

Little did I appreciate my 1939 Willys four-door sedan, the first car I owned.

I wanted to make the Willys into a stock car, since stock car racing was all the rage in the early 1950s. During summers on his farm, my Uncle Fritz took me to stock car races at the Monroe County Fairgrounds in New York, and I was enthralled watching them.

Most of the stock cars were old 1935-’40 Fords, who ran along with a few odd Chevys that were modified for racing. Modifications to these cars often included a reduction in weight by removing all unnecessary interior items, including upholstery, seats and window glass; completing some engine modifications; cutting off unnecessary fenders or extensively modifying them; building roll bars and heavy-duty bumpers; and, of course, painting big numbers on the sides of the cars.

I had my racing plan for my ’39 Willys all laid out for me through my experiences at the stock car races.

Townsend had bought the ’39 Willys sedan as a new car, and I doubt he ever drove it over 30 mph. He was a town highway department employee who drove the heavy equipment and was responsible for all truck and equipment maintenance. He maintained and treated his Willys the same way. I took this wonderful old car and tried to make a stock car out of it by modifying it the same way drivers prepared the Fords and Chevrolets I had seen at stock car races. What a shame. I even painted large white numbers on each side of the Willys: “144 1/4.” I was 13 years old, going on 14, and I thought it was the cleverest thing in the world.

Then it was time to test my race Willys. Since I had mowed the hay field on the north side of the farm house and Uncle George had bailed all the hay, I thought that if I hauled all the bales out of the field and into the barn, I would have a great oval race track to drive across.

After two days of hard work, all the hay was in the barn. I never thought to share my plans with anyone. That may have been mistake number one. I made a few passes around the “track” when no one was around and it was fun. Way too much fun.

The next morning, as the dew clung to the stubble of the hay field, I discovered that by going as fast as I could in that little, underpowered four-cylinder car down the straight away and into a corner, I could actually slide around the corner like the big boys did in the big race cars. To complete the slide, I would pull the emergency brake handle and lock up both the rear wheels at just the right moment. What fun!

About the third time around the track, with locked rear wheels sliding the car perfectly sideways, the right rear wheel caught a large rock sticking out of the ground and the car went up on two wheels, almost rolling over. Even more fun and thrills.

I didn’t realize Uncle George had gone out to fetch the cows and happened to see this spectacular two-wheel skid on his way back to the barn. Nor was I aware he had seen “the race.” All I saw were the cows coming down from the side hill toward the barn.

I drove back to the side yard, parked old “144 1/4” and went in for breakfast. I was almost through with breakfast when Uncle George came into the house with fire in his eyes. I was banned from the hay field forever, given a safety lecture and told I was lucky to be alive and never do that two-wheel spin again. As a last painful punishment, there was no more “race track,” only a lowly hay field.

However, I still had old “144 1/4” and I still thought I was a race car driver. What was I to do? For days, I worked on the car, changing the oil, cleaning the spark plugs, checking and re-gapping the points and cleaning all the oil and grease off the engine until the paint shined. All the time, I wondered how fast my race car could actually go, but I had to wait until the perfect time.

One day, I was asked to watch the kids while Aunt Erma and Uncle George went to town. I asked my nieces and nephew if they would like to go for a car ride. Of course, they were all excited about the possibility of this great adventure. Since I had removed the back seat from the Willys, we took the blankets from the kids’ beds so they had a place to sit in the back of the car. I had a 7-year-old, a 6-year-old and a 3-year-old seated on the back floor of the Willys, and I was their 14-year-old driver. What was wrong with this picture?

Dale complained he couldn’t see out of the front windshield or the side windows, because he was too short. We went hunting in the back of the farmhouse for something he could sit on. We found a copper tub used for heating water on the stove when washing clothes. We turned the tub upside-down in the car, put a blanket on it and we were ready.

Before going on our adventure, I told everyone we could not speak of this when Aunt Erma and Uncle George returned. Then off we went, down the hardtop road to the dirt road that ran by the farm, down to the Gulf, back to the hardtop, and then back to the farm for a total of about seven miles. We drove carefully and slowly past the few farm houses on the hardtop. Then, in second gear, we turned and slowly drove up the steep hill on the dirt road to the top and stopped. Then the instructions from the driver were to hold on tight for the run to the bottom of the hill.

From a dead stop, the speedometer crept up to 25 mph, then 40, then 55 and ever so slowly moved to 60 mph by the bottom of the hill. At that point it was time to slow down. After arriving back at the farm, the car was carefully parked in the exact spot where it sat before we left. The blankets were quickly put away, the copper tub returned to the back room, and things returned to normal — whatever that was.

I only remember Aunt Erma calling me out to the back yard that evening to talk to me. She asked if I knew what could have happened and made me promise I would never ever do anything like that again, especially with her children. When Aunt Erma had a special talk with you, you listened intently. When you made a promise to Aunt Erma, you would never think of breaking it. I now have come to believe there were angels on both of my shoulders. God Bless Aunt Erma for her insight and wisdom. And I still wonder how she knew what happened that afternoon.

I went back to school in September, and when I went to the farm, the car was gone. I didn’t need to ask anyone what happened to it. My bet is Uncle George called the junk man to pick it up. That act may have saved my life, or that of someone else.

Your best source for all things Willys is our Standard Catalog of American Cars 1805-1942. Check it out in our Old Cars Weekly online store today!

The post Reader Ride: Running wild in a Willys appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

By Bill Rothermel

This year’s Invitational at Saratoga on May 20 in Saratoga Springs, N.Y., will reunite two former roommates 44 years after they last shared a roof. Jim DeGolyer’s 1929 Ford Model A Tudor and Jason Tagliaferri’s 1934 Ford V-8 Cabriolet were parked together in Caroga Lake, N.Y., until 1967 when DeGolyer, a resident of Port Kent, purchased the Model A when he was in high school.

“I saved up $50 from shoveling snow and my dad and I went to buy the car,” DeGolyer said. He remembers returning home without the car, devastated that it was not his. “The next day, the owner called and said he couldn’t sell me that old car for $50, but he could do so for $25. Unknown to me, him and my father had worked this all out ahead of time.”
DeGolyer remembers the car looking like it needed a total restoration at that time. “Not unlike what it looks like today,” he chuckled.

After DeGolyer’s purchase, the Model A was given an amateur restoration that included rebuilding the engine, replacing the rear spring, a new radiator, and seat covers over the existing upholstery, along with new floor mats. DeGolyer said he and his father painted the car themselves and estimates the car is driven about 300-400 miles per year. (DeGolyer can only provide an estimate since the odometer remains stuck at 87,000 miles, where it has been since 1967.)

Tagliaferri, of Gloversville, bought the companion 1934 Ford V-8 from the second owner’s son in 2007. At some point in the car’s history, the original owner sold it, but the new owner could not make the payments and the car was sold to Hank Born Sr., the second owner. Born then put the car in storage in the early 1940s. Mr. Born’s son retrieved the car from storage in 1985, had the engine rebuilt, overhauled the brakes, replaced the five tires and installed a new tan top as an original green-colored top was not available. (This exceptional car was featured in “Watching the Fords Go By,” Feb. 9, 2009.)

“Other than the items mentioned, the car remains all original, including the Vineyard Green exterior paint,” said Tagliaferri. “I even have all the service records for the car.”

As a testament to the care given to the V-8 Ford, Tagliaferri noted that Mr. Born drove the car sparingly, and never in the rain. Born’s son also said his father waxed the car every Sunday after coming home from church. Evidence to this was the countless cans of paste wax stored on the shelves that surrounded the Ford in the old garage.

DeGolyer said history tells him he should have bought the V-8, but back in 1967, they were both just old cars. He admits that his Model A is not a showpiece, but alongside the largely original V-8 Cabriolet, they both have a great story to tell.

Both vehicles will be shown at the 4th Annual Invitational at Saratoga on May 20 at the Saratoga Automobile Museum (110 Avenue of the Pines, Saratoga Springs, NY.) Learn more by calling 518-587-1935 or go to www.saratogaautomuseum.org.

Ford fans should check out these Blue Oval resources from Old Cars Weekly:

• Standard Catalog of Ford 1903-2002
• Just Fords: Fascinating Finds & Great Machines From the Blue Oval

The post Ford family reunion: Invitational to reunite longtime stable mates appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

By Chuck Klein

At about 50 mph, it had to appear that we were hurtling straight for the telephone pole. Then, at what must have seemed like the absolute last possible moment, the tires scratched across the hard dirt in a full panic stop and she was thrown forward, her knuckles white against the black “chicken bar.” Suddenly, the pony-tailed blond was slammed against the passenger door as the open roadster made a very hard left while the rear end swung out and the engine roared. The car straightened out and we headed down the straight-a-way, the passenger pinned to the seat back as a prisoner of acceleration.

After three times around, I pulled into the infield and grinned at my 16-year-old honey in the passenger seat. She was wide-eyed and the same color as my Ermine White ’Vette.

“I, I, I…was never so scared. I thought we were going to hit that pole… and roll over…” she stammered. “Let’s do it again.”

With stop watches in hand, my buddy and the 5/8-mile dirt track owner excitedly ran over to me, proclaiming that I had broken the track record.

This was the spring of 1960, and I was just getting the feel of my combination 18th birthday gift and high school graduation present: a new 230-hp Corvette with the close-ratio three-speed transmission. With options such as the AM push-button radio, whitewall tires and heater, the cost was $3,433.01.

The track, laid out in some farmer’s field, was near Middletown, Ohio, about an hour north of Cincinnati. It was the only place around that allowed anyone with a driver’s license to race. Passengers were also allowed in these days before the proliferation of lawyers.

I loved road racing, but being only 18, SCCA was out of the question for three more years. Post graduation, and against my parent’s wishes, I took a job instead of going to college. I needed money to build my ’Vette — I mean, what’s more important, playing Joe College with a stocker or having a fast machine?

During the rest of the summer, as funds permitted, I added Marchal headlamps, a quick-steering adapter, heavy-duty shocks, metallic brake linings, a four-speed transmission, heavy-duty clutch, three two-barrel carburetors on an Offenhauser manifold, Duntov 097 cam with solid lifters, dual points and a Mallory 50K-volt coil. The last item was one of the most significant improvements, in relation to other high-performance 283 Chevys. When I first installed the coil, the engine developed a miss. I figured the coil was bad, but before taking it back, I thought to turn out the garage lights and watch the engine run. There were sparks all over the engine.

Although I had replaced the factory graphite spark plug wires with stranded-type wires, voltage was leaking everywhere. I took neoprene fuel line, slit pieces to match each plug wire and then sealed the wires in the neoprene with electrician’s tape. There was no more leakage and performance was significantly enhanced.

Sure, this stuff was expensive and it took every dime I earned, but I was living at home and had a pal whose father owned a garage. He had given me the vendor number for the garage, thus allowing me to purchase Chevrolet parts at a 40 percent discount. By late summer, I discovered three problems: hot days and/or racing produced vapor lock, hard cornering sometimes caused loss of power due to the carburetor float remaining closed (gas was jamming it in the “up” position) and the progressive linkage was not conducive to racing.

The solution to the last problem was easily addressed: I rigged a straight linkage, but idled on the center carburetor only. The fix for the other problems came to me as inspiration. I bought an extra electric fuel pump and fuel block. I drilled and tapped a hole into the base of each float bowl where I threaded a ball-check valve inline with a flow valve. I ran a fuel line back to the fuel tank from the new pump. Now I had one fuel pump pumping gas into the carburetors in the normal fashion, while another pump sucked gas out of the carburetors, though it was restricted by the flow-valve. It took some experimenting with float levels and flow-valve settings, but after I got it worked out, I never again had vapor lock or was starved for fuel in a corner.

On return trips to the Middletown dirt track, sporting all these goodies, I was not able to equal, much less exceed, my previous and still unbroken track record. The cause, I figured, was due to gear ratios. First gear in the three-speed was a perfect for that track inasmuch as I never had to shift into second. With the four-speed, first gear had a lower ratio and thus I had to either back off or waste time shifting into second and later back into first.

The three-speed transmission, like most cars back then, didn’t have synchronizers in first gear. However, having learned to drive on a Crosley that had no synchronizers, I knew how to double-clutch. Before replacing the three-speed with the fully synchronized four-speed, I made a few bucks off other kids by betting them I could shift the ’Vette into first gear at 50 mph and without using a clutch. It was easy: I knew 50 mph equaled 5,000 rpm in first and therefore at 50 mph, all I had to do was pull the shift lever into neutral, rev the engine to 5,000 rpm and the shift lever would slide into first like a thrust bearing onto a greased shaft.

Late on a summer night, I noticed my buddy Howard’s 270-hp dual-quad 1957 Chevrolet at the White Castle drive-in. Pulling up next to him, I said, “Hey man, I see you finally got that junker running.”

“This ‘junker’ will dust you off any time you’re ready,” said Howard. (We nicknamed Howard “Hard” since that’s how the Kentuckians he worked with pronounced his name.)

Before I could think of a good come-back, Lou Goldstein walked over saying, “It’s about time you two smoked one off.” Howard and I looked at each other and grinned.
“I’m ready if you are,” he said.

“Wait a minute. What have you got in this thing? You’re too eager. Pop the hood and let me see,” I demanded.

“OK with me. It’s just a stock 270.”

“Bull! You never drove a stocker in your life.”

He opened the hood, but all that was obvious were two-four barrels. Anything else had to be hidden in the engine.

“Fire it up one time, Hard,” I insisted.

When the engine caught, I could tell by the sound that it had a hot cam, maybe an Isky five-cycle. “How big did you bore it and what’s the cam?” I said, probing for information.
“Now look, do you want to talk or do you want to race?” Howard took a hard line and I knew it was now or never.

“OK, but no standing start. We go from a roll. I’ll take Louie and you get a passenger to count.”

The rules were set and we pulled onto northbound Reading Road. We leveled off, side by side, between 25 and 30 mph. I rolled down my window to hear the count as Howard’s passenger shouted above the din, “One… two… three!”

At the sound of the magic word, I stabbed the throttle and hit the high-beam switch, the big Marchal lamps lighting up all of the four-lane road. The sudden acceleration slammed me back in the seat and I fixed one eye on the tach and put my full attention into hearing the engine. I got the jump on him with the engine’s three-two’s and a lower first-gear ratio, having the advantage on the low end. The recent tune-up had not been in vain.

In the Corvette’s second gear — a ratio between his first and third— my lead increased, but once into third and as we neared the top of the hill, just before Langdon Farm Road, he began to close the distance — his two-four’s, and whatever else his car had, now had the edge.

Cresting the hill, abreast of each other and at a little over 100 mph, the powerful French headlamps picked up the reflective decals of a city police car waiting for the light at Langdon Farm. It was too late now. I could see by the condition of the “walk-wait” signal that the light was about to change to red for our northbound cars. We went through the red light together at something over 50 mph, our hands on our cars’ horns, high beams on and engines revved tight.

The cop didn’t waste any time in turning on his bubble gum machine and pulling around the line of cars waiting with him. Howard stopped in front of the high school, but I kept going, reaching for the switches to turn off my tail and brake lamps. I took the first right and got on it all the way to where the road curved around and backed into Langdon Farm. Approaching this intersection, I set up for a four-wheel drift after determining there was no other traffic. The ’Vette slid around the bend in perfect control, smoke billowing from the wheel wells as I poured the coal to her.

From Langdon Farm, we wound our way through the back streets of suburban villages. The last time I saw the policeman, he was about a half-mile behind me and losing ground. I wasn’t worried about a road block, because the city and the villages were on different radio frequencies.

Once at home, I put the ’Vette in the garage and found a key to my sister’s car, which we took back to White Castle. Howard was waiting for us, grinning from ear to ear. He explained how the officer pulled next to him, told him to wait and took off after me. As soon as the officer was out of sight, Howard merely turned around and drove back to the drive-in. The cop, obviously a rookie, had failed to copy license plate numbers or even get a good look at “Hard,” and we were now both scot-free.

By the spring of 1961, I was tired of working — college had to be more fun — and itching to travel. I quit my job, packed up and headed west.

The post High-gear fun in my ’60 Corvette appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

By Somer Hooker

As a youth, I spent a lot of time at the corner drug store reading the “little pages,” those car magazines sold in a 5-1/2 by 8 inch format. Publications such as Rodding and Restyling, Custom Cars, Car Speed and Style, and the still-published Rod & Custom neatly lined the bottom shelf of magazine racks. After school, I would peek inside those magazines, sometimes even buying a copy if there was an extra quarter in my pocket. How else was I going fuel my automotive fantasies during math class the next day?

Darryl Starbird, George Barris and Ed Roth became names embedded in my vocabulary from reading those magazines where custom, of course, was spelled with a “K.” Words such as lowered, decked and shaved were used freely to describe how to “deal” with a car. Alas, the 25 cent investment was as far as I ever went in building a car.

Recently, while scanning online classified ads, I happened upon a true “period car” that took me back to those little pages. This wasn’t a piece that had been built to replicate an old custom from back when — it was from back when! The dangerous thing about the advertisement was that the car — a 1949 Chevrolet custom — was just 30 miles away in the Nashville, Tenn., area!

After a few e-mails and a phone call, the owner discouraged me from purchasing the period custom. I am 6-feet-4, and he said I simply wouldn’t fit in the car. He said he was 6 feet tall and his head touched the chopped roof. Regardless, I drove the short distance to check out this period custom to satisfy my curiosity. When I arrived, the time warp Chevrolet looked straight off the “little pages” and was too irresistible. I had to buy it.

The Chevrolet was a true convertible. It had been built in the early 1950s by Willie Guateri, the car’s second owner. One winter, while the Chevy was in Guateri’s care, a critter had torn up the top. That gave Guateri the impetus to build the car into a full custom. He replaced the original top with a Carson-style top, built using a handmade top frame work with custom upholstery. Carson-style tops such as this were an economical route when chopping a top, because a car’s original top frame did not have to be chopped, and the new top could be built at home.

Real lead was used when the car was shaved and decked. Many other subtle touches were completed, including the use of a period Oldsmobile grille frame around a Kaiser grille bar. Later bumperettes from a 1955 Thunderbird finished off the bumper, and 1957 Cadillac headlamps were molded into the front fenders. The windshield is a one-piece Buick unit that was chopped and flanked by dummy “spots” on each pillar.

At the rear, the original tail lamp openings were filled with lead and motorcycle accessory tail lamps were installed inboard. By virtue of their lip, the fender skirts are probably Mercury. Since the trunk was shaved, remote access was granted by a cable from within the gas cap lid.

Sometime in the 1960s, Cragar mag wheels were added. An owner later installed bucket seats from a 1964 Mustang. The seller was correct regarding head clearance inside the custom Chevy, but I was able to lower one of the Mustang seats, and it barely accommodated my height.

The custom Chevy later was parked after Guateri began a ’32 Ford project. His son-in-law told me, “I helped him build it. It was all done in a garage. We used real lead.” The car was allegedly featured in Popular Hot Rodding in the 1970s, but I have not been able to find a copy.

Regardless of its possible appearance in a publication, the car remains a great tribute to the great garage ingenuity of hot rodders during the 1950s. It was a true garage build, and now a great garage find.

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The post From garage build to garage find appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

Jim Hibbert is probably the first person to complete a frame-off
restoration on a 1973 Chevelle Malibu. His attention to detail in
the restoration included finding a sticker from the original selling
dealership for the car’s deck lid. This car is powered by the
145-hp, 350-cid V-8 (below).

Guiness doesn’t keep records for such a feat, but 38-year-old Jim Hibbert has probably spent more time in a 1973 Chevelle than any other person his age or younger. It’s also likely that he’s the only person of any age who has completed a frame-off restoration of a 1973 Chevelle that wasn’t a big-block Super Sport model.

“I always liked the body styles, and my parents owned one when I was really young,” Hibbert said. “I always find myself looking at the early to mid-1970s cars.”

Hibbert’s parents bought a green 1973 Chevelle coupe with the famous Colonnade roof as a new car, and after a childhood of riding in the back seat, Hibbert came to own that car. In 1989, he sold it to buy his second 1973 Chevelle coupe, a gold 30,000-mile car Hibbert still shows at car shows around his home in Oshkosh, Wis. To this day, the odometer numbers on that gold Chevelle continue to flip, and it currently reads of 204,000 miles. But that green Chevelle eventually came back into his life.

“I sold it to a guy who bought it for his girlfriend, then he sold it, and I ended up buying it back from him,” Hibbert said. “It was a chance encounter; I saw that car at a lot and recognized it… And the [last] owner is now my best friend. I ended up parting it out for inventory.”

By the time Hibbert re-purchased the green Chevelle his parents had bought new, the car had 160,000 miles and had suffered like so many other 1973-’77 GM A bodies: it had rusted to oblivion. Many of the cars that didn’t completely succumb to corrosion faced a bittersweet end as stock cars and enduro race cars on local tracks throughout the country. Those that did survive were often modified with jacked-up rear ends, aftermarket sunroofs and engine transplants, then were driven into the ground.

One of the few Chevelles that did not face an early end was Hibbert’s third 1973 Chevelle, a blue Malibu Colonnade coupe with only 6,800 miles. Despite such a low odometer reading, Hibbert found this Chevelle in a condition that wasn’t as pristine as other cars with similar mileage and age.

“I saw it in the Auto Buyer in 1999,” he said, “and they advertised it with 6,800 miles. They had a pretty high price on it, and I thought if I didn’t have to tamper with it, it was worth it. I went down to Illinois to look at it and it was evident this car had been in some kind of wreck. You could tell it had a replacement passenger front fender and they had blended the paint. It was also missing a bumper bolt and had other signs of being damaged [in the front].”

Hibbert had traveled from northeast Wisconsin to Illinois to view the car and was disappointed to find the Chevelle Malibu had been misrepresented by the consignment dealership advertising it.

“I was holding the air conditioning fuse in my hand and asked the salesman how the a/c worked, and he said, ‘It blows cold,’” Hibbert said.

Despite a few other minor issues, the car showed signs of being a low-mileage Chevelle Malibu. Hibbert also knew the chances of finding another solid mid-1970s Chevelle were slim, so he made an offer.

“The guy lied to me at the consignment lot, so I low-balled him and he showed me the door,” Hibbert said.

Over the next few months, the car continued to appear in advertisements by the consignment dealership, and every month, Hibbert would pester the dealership with another phone call to see if they would accept his earlier offer. Each time, the dealer turned him down. Finally, the car’s owner directly contacted Hibbert and was ready to negotiate.

The seller was a car collector and gave Hibbert the story on the Chevelle, saying it was owned by an older couple who parked it for a long period of time. The seller had purchased it with a group of Cadillacs and had no specific interest in the 1973 Chevelle so he put it up for sale. Given Hibbert’s previous experience in trying to purchase the car, he had a friend in Illinois verify the seller’s facts. Hibbert’s friend learned the elderly couple had damaged the car and repaired it, but a deal was struck regardless.

“Eventually, I did go and buy the car,” Hibbert said. “The patina was there. I’m sure it was the original mileage, because stuff matched up. The guy gave me a price and I probably paid too much.”

Hibbert knew from the beginning he wanted to complete a frame-off restoration of the car to its factory configuration, and hoped to begin work in 2001. Unfortunately, duties at home prevented the work from starting, but it didn’t stop him from driving the car. That summer, he added 10,000 miles to the car’s odometer, and by 2002, he was ready to begin the restoration.

From disassembly to reassembly and detailing the car’s components, Hibbert did all the work himself but the paint. Since the car had such low mileage, the engine was simply given a new gasket set, painted and then reinstalled. Hibbert had another painter shoot the car’s light blue metallic exterior paint. In the end, he had the nicest stock 1973 Chevelle Malibu on the road.

“I like them stock,” Hibbert said. “I see a lot of people with modified cars constantly upkeeping their car to make them run right. It’s enough work to keep them clean.”

Hibbert said that the biggest restoration challenge was removing the original brake and fuel lines, sending them out to be reproduced in stainless-steel and waiting for the new lines to be returned.

Parts hunting was relatively easy, he said. Since the car had so few miles, it didn’t need much. On top of that, Hibbert worked at a Chevrolet dealership and was able to get what few parts he did need from the Chevrolet parts counter.

“There were a few trim pieces I had to get, but I worked at a Chevrolet dealership and so I ordered them,” he said. “I was able to get two rocker trim pieces for about $20 each; I didn’t have to pay the prices you have to pay for them now – I’ve seen sets sell for $1,000.”

However, the savings stopped when it came time to replace the grille.

“The front grille was the biggest pain to find,” Hibbert said. “There was a slight warp in the original grille; there was one angle where I could notice a warp and it just bugged me. The grille took four months to find, and another dealer had one. If it had been a normally stocked item, it would have been less, but the dealer gouged me. But how perfect do you want the car?”

That quest for perfection has earned Hibbert multiple best-of-show, best-paint and best-engine awards for his Chevelle since it was completed in 2003 after a 10-month restoration.

It’s very rare to see these cars restored to such a level, and Hibbert said he notices two distinct reactions to his work when showing his blue 1973 Chevelle Malibu.

“The older crowd is like, ‘Wow, it’s just a Malibu. But people that are used to seeing them around, they say, ‘Holy (expletive), I can’t believe there’s one around.’”

Neither of those reactions phase Hibbert.

“I built both of these [Chevelles] for myself,” he said. “With that body style of Chevelle, you are kind of like a MoPar guy — you are out on your own with parts availability and appreciation. If I didn’t have those Chevelles, and if GM didn’t exist, I would be looking at early 1970s Mopars.”
Despite all of his work to make his blue 1973 Chevelle Malibu the best example and its tremendously low mileage, Hibbert isn’t afraid to watch its odometer spin from time to time.

“I came up with parameters for that blue one,” he said. “If there is rain in the forecast, I don’t take that one — I take the gold Chevelle. As far as I am concerned, I don’t drive the blue Chevelle enough, but one car is enough to keep clean after the rain.”

Today, the blue Chevelle shows 25,000 miles, and with its mileage added to the 204,000 miles of the gold Chevelle he also owns and the 160,000-mile Chevelle he parted out, Hibbert’s time in 1973 Chevelles is well into the 300,000-mile range and counting.

And thanks to Hibbert, hobbyists have a chance of seeing at least one mint 1973 Chevelle that didn’t meet an end in the grips of the tin worm. And that’s a rare opportunity.

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The post Reader Ride: Dream ’73 appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.

Pfaff bought the Dodge Polara three years ago, put a bit of work into it and has already taken second-place awards at several local car shows. A printer in Ripon, Wis., by trade, Kevin put a lot of energy into detailing the exterior and interior of the cart. In addition to the cosmetics, he completed a drive-train rebuild (with some upgrades) and also had the push-button TorqueFlite automatic transmission gone through so it works the way it should.

With a 119-inch wheelbase, a 208.1-inch overall length and more than 3,000-lb. curb weight, the big ’63 Dodge Polara hardtop might be hard to think of as a muscle car today. However, road tests recorded when the car was new could easily change your mind. Motor Trend’s technical editor, Jim Wright, tested a Dodge Polara with the 383-cid, 330-hp V-8 and he managed the 0-to-60 trip in a mere 7.7 seconds. The quarter-mile took him 15.8 seconds, by which time the big, open-top Dodge was moving at 92 mph.

“Barring the all-out drag-strip engines, there aren’t many that can stay with the 330-hp ‘383’ in acceleration,” Wright wrote in his article. Pfaff loves hearing that, since his Polara hardtop has a 440-cid engine that’s been tweaked to 485 hp. He enjoys quick getaways and snappy performance, although the restored car’s street racing days are history. To aid acceleration, Kevin installed a big 8-3/4 Sure-Grip rear axle with 4.30:1 gearing and a Super Stock leaf spring rear suspension (which also explains the car’s stance).

The Polara was considered the top trim level Dodge back in 1963, and for 1963, an even higher-level Polara, dubbed the Polara 500, returned. The Polara 500 outshined the base Polara with special wheel covers, additional exterior trim behind the rear wheel opening and bucket seats. The basic Polara two-door hardtop, such as Kevin’s car, listed for just $2,806 and weighed 3,280 lbs. That was with the base 318-cid V-8. Wright’s test car had 340 lbs. of extras, including a Sure-Grip differential, power steering, power brakes, electric windows, an AM/FM radio, a heater, a Sun tachometer and seat belts. Pfaff’s car is set up very similar to Wright’s test car, except that it has crank windows. Still, it’s probably tipping the scales at around 3,600 lbs.

Single-stage enamel paint in very-near-factory Polar White has been sprayed on the body, and the eye-catching two-tone teal-and-white interior has seen a lot of tender loving care to bring back its great new-car look. The car is one of just 8,716 made. It’s notable that, of those nearly 9,000 1963 Polaras, only 545 were built with Slant-Six power. V-8 engines in displacements ranging from 318 cubic inches to 413 cubic inches were under the hoods of the rest of the cars.

The low production total could explain why Pfaff doesn’t see a lot of similar cars in backyards and allies. He has spotted a few, though. They are easy to pick out when you see them. They have that face that’s hard to forget!

The post Beauty or Beast? 1963 Polara had a look all its own appeared first on Old Cars Weekly.